The Ice Storm
by Demeter Lythersin
Summary: *OC FREE!* After ignoring Zack's orders much as her sister would, Jondy is hunted down by Manticore and thrown into Renfro's clutches. When Zack goes to Max for help, it forces Max to make a decision: her sister or her heart?
1. Prologue

The Ice Storm

"Hey. Krit here. Jus' checking in, everything's okay." Click.

"Yeah, it's Zane. All clear. Later, bro'." Click.

"I swear, big brother, if I catch you cleaning out my fridge one more time, I'll kick your ass into next Tuesday." Click. _Syl, _he reflected, as something that, had it not been emanating from him, could have been considered a small smile of pride crossed his face.

"Um, it's Jace. Me and little Maxie are fine, everything's clear. Bye." Click.

"_Zack! For chrissake help me! They've locked onto me and I can't get – bzzt._" Click. 

Whoa, that one sure got his attention. The smirk of self-satisfaction from raiding Syl's refrigerator fell off his face as if he'd been slapped with a wet fish.

Jondy. "Shit."


	2. Serendipity

Chapter 1: Serendipity

She slunk out of a filthy alley clogged with trash and homeless people huddled around fires smouldering in drums. Seven feet. That's how far she'd have to walk to have any chance of getting out of this. She could jump further than that, much further, but in that instant, hot coals might as well have surrounded the phone box for all she could bring herself to go to it.

Left. Clear. Right, clear. Rooftops, clear. Alright, Jondy, get it together. Get your money out before you go over there, lingering in plain sight is bound to be hazardous to your health, girl.

She passed one shaking hand over her hair, straightened her jacket, took a deep breath and forced her legs to take her to the phone box. Or, as she thought of it at that moment, the Flaming Pit of Humiliation and Defeat.

Deft fingers pressed the cold metal buttons corresponding to a number she probably couldn't forget if she'd tried, and a feeling of dread settled in her stomach as she waited none-too-patiently for the call to connect. She was tired, so tired. That in itself would be unusual for her – normally she had a minimal-if-at-all need for sleep. Drowsing into a daydream, she recalled the nights she and Max had sat together on one cot, whispering to each other about the world outside, about Jack's shakes and the Nomalies Ben told them about. But that was gone, now. Thank god. 

"How can I be so tired?" Jondy sighed as her reflection contemplated a suitable answer in the dimly lit-up glass. _You know exactly why. You should have gotten out of San Fransisco months ago, my girl, and you've been hunted ever since. But did you listen to him? No-oo._

"Shutup," she snarled at the Other Jondy. Thankfully, before she could fall into a full-on argument with the Other, the call connected.

"You know the drill."

She gritted her teeth at the sound of Zack's voice and paused for a second, thinking of how to word this. Why did he always have to be so damn cold? Did he even have a heart at all? _You know the answer to that, _the Other put in from the side of the phone box. 

__

I didn't hurt his feelings, I pissed him off. There's a fundamental difference, she rationalised. 

__

Whatever you say, the reflection mocked. _But how about you prove your inbuilt instinct for self-preservation. Listen!_

Oh God. They'd found her again. Jondy could hear the TAC teams pushing their way through the dirty alley behind her, firing shots to clear a path. She swallowed hard.

She cupped a hand over the receiver, hissing fiercely. "Zack! For chrissake help me! They've locked onto me and I can't get –"

Had she been able to, she would have yelped as the taser wires connected and jolted her into oblivion.

"We got her, sir!" one of the TAC squad announced with detectable triumph. They'd only been hunting down the little bitch for three months. Not overly remarkable, he decided, eyeing the prone figure slumped between himself and his comrade. Not tall, kind of scrawny, light-brown hair, blue eyes, hung with exhaustion and fear the last time he'd seen them close up. Pretty, in the way that all X-5s were. Didn't look exceptionally strong.

"Well why don't you announce it to the whole damn neighbourhood and that Hoverdrone, soldier?!" the CO snapped. He reached for a radio on his belt. "Alpha team. Bring vehicle to the corner of Harlem and 43rd immediately. Target has been acquired." 

"Roger that, sir," an affirmation crackled from the radio.

They'd chased her out of a bar, and hit her with a taser outside a phone box. The receiver still hung loose where she'd dropped it as she fell. Wrinkling his nose in distaste at the lack of organisation, he hung it up. About time they'd caught her, too. Madame was fast losing patience with their failures, and the Colonel…he shuddered at the thought of the lecture he would have gotten had they failed again. He was nothing exceptional himself – a Sergeant of little note who always did as he was told, but never seemed to go anywhere. This, however, would be quite a feather in his cap. An X5. One of the '09 escapees, nonetheless. He brushed aside her hair to get a better look at her barcode, and felt a minor electric shock as he passed a finger over it. What the heck did they do those things with, anyway?

Shrugging it off, his radio crackled to life with the voice of the Colonel himself.

"Report, Sergeant."

"X5 target has been captured, unconscious but unhurt as per your orders, sir," he huffed, quite proud of his accomplishment.

"Excellent. Bring her back to base immediately. Over and out." 

If he didn't know better, the Sergeant would have thought the Colonel sounded…excited.

He took one last look at the girl as the Hummer roared around the corner and two soldiers hefted her inside, securing her hands and feet, unwilling to risk losing her again. _Poor kid. It's not Lydecker I worry about, it's the blonde bitch. What's she gonna do to you now she has you? _Dismissing the wave of pity, he slammed the doors shut and locked them. She had been a worthy foe, and now she would be left to the devices of a woman whose intentions were less than saintly. _Definitely, poor kid._


	3. Tea With the Queen of the Damned

Chapter 2: Tea With the Queen of the Damned

"Welcome home, X5-210."

Under closed eyelids, Jondy snapped to attention. Where was she? Who was talking? How the heck did she get here in the first place? Slowly the pieces fell into place as memories came flooding back. Slinking like a hunted animal. Being afraid Zack would ignore her because they'd parted on bad terms. Arguing with herself in the glass. And the damn taser. She hated tasers with the burning passion of a thousand suns. For some reason the geneticists had never discovered, tasers had a powerful effect on Jondy. When they'd tested them for resistance, it had taken a thirty second jolt at maximum power to knock down Zack and Max, but that was most likely a pride thing. Jondy went down like a sack of bricks almost instantly when she was hit with the lowest setting. Kind of like an allergy. _No, sir. Please don't hit me with that. I'm allergic to being electrocuted. _She sniggered internally, she'd have to tell that one to Zack when…_if _she got out of here.

Here. It was Manticore, she could smell it. Uh-oh.

She stretched her arms ever-so-slightly, and found she was strapped to a table. Generally that wouldn't be a problem, except for the other Presence in the room. There was something about that voice that set Jondy on edge – although the owner of that voice was trying to sound almost hospitable, there was a concealed coldness, a sense of darker purpose, that made Jondy want to flinch. She mused to herself that it would probably be better to be yelled at.

"You can stop feigning sleep, X5-210. Your vital signs have returned to normal, and the increase in brainwave activity indicates you are, in fact, conscious."

'X5-210'? Oh dear. Now she was _really_ in it. But, with her genetically enhanced sense of reason, Jondy knew when she was beaten, and snapped her eyelids open to peer at her captor.

A slim woman dressed in a black suit with short, peroxide-blonde hair smiled at her, but she probably couldn't have appeared any less sincere if she'd tried. Reaching out one thin, pale hand, the blonde brushed a recalcitrant strand of Jondy's hair out of her eyes.

"That's better, don't you think?"

Jondy glared at her fiercely. 

"My, we have a temper, don't we? Seems to be an X5 trait. Your 'sister,' X5-734…no, what is it you called her? Brin. She was quite a little hellcat when she came back to us as well. But she soon remembered her place, just as you soon will." She twisted the lock of hair around her dainty fingers.

Jondy glared harder. Zack had told her what happened to Brin, despite the fact she'd had to pick a fight to get even _that_ out of him.

"Don't you have anything to say? No 'where am I?' No 'who are you?'" Blondie positioned herself so that the girl strapped on the table had no choice but to look at her. 

Inspiration struck, and Jondy grinned ferally, showing all of her teeth. "Sure I do. Nice hair. What number is it?"

The façade the other woman had put up collapsed as her face dropped, and with it the false smile. She scowled, brushed her hands together, and called to the guards at the door.

"Take her for reprogramming immediately." She paused in the doorway, and the hard, cruel bitch that Jondy had felt emanating from her showed its true colours on her face. "You, my dear, have forgotten your manners. It's time we gave them back to you." Without another word, she stormed off down the corridor.

Jondy was hauled unceremoniously to her feet, and escorted out the door in handcuffs, a gun barrel pressed to the back of her neck. As they strapped her into the chair, forced her eyes open and gagged her, Jondy stifled a whimper. Suck it up, soldier. The screen in front of her flickered to life, but she looked through it, lost in memory.

__

Zack and Jondy stood squared off against each other in the alley behind the block of apartments where she currently lived.

"I just want to know where she is! It's not as if I'm going to jump on my bike and arrive on her doorstep! Despite what you think, I have some restraint and the world doesn't revolve around you and your goddamn rules! You're a heartless prick, you know that?!"

Zack growled, deep in his throat. "Jondy, I'm warning you. Do not _start with me."_

"Start what? I just want to know where my baby sister is. Is that too much to ask? It is, isn't it?"

He dropped his raised fists and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Max is fine. That's all I can tell you."

Jondy clenched her fists even tighter. "That's not all you can tell me. It's all you will _tell me. You're so selfish, Zack. And don't preach at me with that 'phoney sentimentality' crap." She finally dropped her fists and her head, trying to hide the tears of frustration in her eyes._

"You could compromise her position, Jon."

"Oh, snap out of it! We left Manticore eleven years ago and you're still stuck there."

Zack's shoulders stiffened. "I only do it to keep you safe, because I care about you all."

Her eyes blazed with angry fire. "Care about us? Bullshit, Zack. Soldiers don't care about anyone. No feelings, remember? All we are is a burden to you. A responsibility you don't have the guts to shirk. Well guess what, soldier boy? I'm not a soldier any more, and I do have feelings. I hate you, Zack. Go away."

He took a step towards her, attempted to place a hand on her shoulder, which she slapped away violently. "You don't mean that."

"Don't presume to know what I do and don't mean. Now, are you as deaf as you are selfish? Leave me alone unless you want to start something."

"Jon—"

"To put it as you did, do not _start with me! Get the hell away from me! I _hate_ you!"_

Tears burning her own, she ventured a look at Zack. His eyes were filled with something she could only describe as pain. He blinked, and there was more. Exhaustion, fear and anger, but mostly hurt. An old soul in a young body. Was he letting her see this on purpose? Oh, don't be stupid, Jondy. He doesn't feel a damn thing unless it's beaten into him, and you know it. Now get out of here before he starts talking again.

So she did. She ran away as fast as she could, and left him standing alone in the alley, his eyes full of hurt and his hands in his pockets.

That had been nearly three months ago, and he'd honoured her demand to be left alone. _I wish I could take it all back, big brother. I'm so sorry._


	4. O Sister, Where Art Thou?

A/N: (I promise I don't do this often.) To answer Owl and jazshiri, I was working on keeping this mainly romance-free, but if anything happens, you'd be on the right track. Thanks for reviewing, it gives my ego a boost and I type faster.

Chapter 3: O Sister, Where Art Thou?

In the kitchen of Logan's apartment, Max had almost hauled herself bodily into the refrigerator.

"Logan! You got any apple sauce?"

From his vigilant position in front of his computer, he called back absently, "Dunno. Check the fridge." 

Max looked down thoughtfully at the knee she had placed on one of the none-too-sturdy shelves, cocked an eyebrow and backed out, leaning on the polished door.

"Logan! Some government guys came by looking for Eyes Only while you were in the bathroom. Said they wanted details, so I copied your hard drive and gave it to them."

"Okay…_What_?!" Logan pushed himself away from his desk so violently that he wound up in the kitchen doorway, sliding along the polished floorboards uncontrollably and with an audible "Eep!" From her position by the fridge, Max eyed him curiously.

"I thought you were done with using chairs for transport."

"Cute. Very cute. Spare me the X5 wit."

She brushed her fingers on her jacket then blew on them. "I'm just good, and you know it. Now I have you attention, is there anywhere else apple sauce could be?"

He creased his brow in thought. "I dunno, a cupboard, I suppose. And anyway, what do you want with –"

A soft knock on the doorframe behind them. Logan stifled a grimace – he knew exactly who it was. Nobody else would sneak into his penthouse apartment, and the only other who _could _was already here. Not that she ever knocked, to boot.

"Hey, Zack."

Zack gave a tight nod of acknowledgment and sauntered over to give his sister a hug of greeting, which Logan eyed suspiciously. _Oh, go **away**, _Logan thought at Zack in annoyance. _Just when things are going great, he has to show up and spoil everything. _

The leader of the X5s had once told him that if he didn't want visitors, he shouldn't leave his windows open, and Logan wondered if deadbolting them shut would keep Zack out in future. Probably not.

"Maxie, I need your help. I was going to call Zane or Krit or even Syl, but you were closer."

She scowled and crossed her arms. "Nice to know what you really think of me."

He passed a frustrated hand through his hair. "It's not like that, and you know _exactly _why," he snapped.

Mocking returned to her voice. "Yeah, I know. If I be a good little tin soldier and do everything by your rules, I get to play with the others."

"Max, do you want to get Jondy back or not?" Zack's deadpan voice returned, and took with it the last of Max's bravado.

"J—Jondy? What happened to her?!"

Zack pulled out his phone and punched a few numbers in. _Great, he trusts me so much he's muted the keytones._ Wordlessly he offered it to her, and as she listened, Max's face turned deathly pale.

"Max? Max, what's wrong?" Logan stood up unsteadily, balanced himself and placed a hand on her shoulder. But she wasn't paying attention. He noticed, irritably, that her attention was focused once again on her big brother.

"What happened, Zack?" her voice was barely above a whisper.

He sighed heavily, jutted his jaw defensively and puffed himself up. "She got care-"

Max fisted a handful of black leather. "I swear, Zack, if you say 'she got careless, she got caught,' I'm going to kick your ass to within an inch of your life, and haul you back to Manticore to get you patched up so I can kick your ass again."

"It's the truth," he snapped back. "How else do you want me to paint it?"

"Why didn't you go to her? Try to help her?!" Max snarled in righteous outrage.

He slumped, uncaring that he did so in front of Logan, and spoke almost softly. "Baby sister, that message is a week old. I only got it this morning. And you heard her…she's already gone."

Max let go of his jacket and sat down hard on one of the black stools. Her eyes, although brimming with angry tears, were set. "That settles it then. We'll go get her back."


	5. A Sparrow Falls

Chapter 4: A Sparrow Falls

"It's rather unprecedented, ma'am. The subject has shown little or no sign of resistance since the second day of reprogramming." The psychologist frowned over his glasses at Renfro, who looked through the window at the X5 tied to the chair. She smiled, one of pure pleasure rather than jape. "Ma'am? I suspect she may have completely resisted all attempts at indoctrination. Every other X5 we've attempted to reprogram has fought tooth and nail, and this one isn't even trying."

She folded her arms and bit her lip as she concentrated. "I'm willing to take that risk. I want you to send Deck in. See if you can get a rise out of her that way. If she kills him…well, he's expendable."

The psychologist gulped, fully aware of the implications of that statement. "Yes, ma'am. At once."

***

Jondy watched avidly as the 'reprogramming' video played through. She'd been there a week. A whole week, with no sign of Zack. He must really be angry with her. And the things they were trying to make her believe…it was getting harder to fight, and she knew it.

A voice flashed from her memory. _No-one can resist torture indefinitely. Not even you. _She guessed that this was its own type of torture – trying to eliminate her as a person.

She'd pretended to give up at the end of the second day, and they now trusted her enough to indoctrinate her without bindings. Every morning, a pair of guards would come for her, cuff her and lead her to this blindingly white and bare room, where she would sit and watch. Traitor. Rat. Enemy. Only some of the words interspersed with pictures of her siblings, both pre-escape and recent. Mission. Duty. Objective. Discipline. Pictures of them all, and pictures of their barcodes and designations. X5-599. X5-656. X5-493. X5-734. X5-798 (Traitor.) X5-711. X5-701. X5-205. X5-452. X5-210. Then a picture of her as a child, all buzz-cut and fatigues. X5-210. A picture of her they'd taken in here. X5-210. You are X5-210.

No I'm not. I'm Jondy.

You are X5-210.

I'm not. I'm _Jondy._

__

No-one can resist indefinitely. I can try.

You are X5-210.

I'm _not._

You are X5-210.

__

Not even you…

__

I…I'm sorry, Zack. I give in. And with hot tears pouring down her cheeks, she forgot.

A/N: 'Tis short, I know. The next chapter will make up for it. And if you want to make me type faster…you could always use the little button in the bottom left hand corner and implore me to do so.


	6. Who's Afraid of the Big Blonde Bitch?

Chapter 5: Who's Afraid of the Big Blonde Bitch?

Sitting at his desk, Lydecker watched Jondy break, and cursed Renfro for the thirty-seventh time that day. 

"You stupid bitch. You wonder why they implode after you screw with their heads. Why can't you leave my kids to me?" He took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. _I can't let her win. _

A faint knock on the door. "Sir? Am I interrupting?"

A white-coated medic from the Psychology unit stood on the threshold. He'd heard everything, and they both knew it. _Go on, you little chicken-shit. Run off and tell her._

"Not really. What do you want?" he growled.

"The Director herself has requested that you interact with the reprogrammed X5, sir."

"Really."

The little man nodded his head emphatically. "Yes, sir. As soon as possible."

"Hm. And I suppose by 'as soon as possible,' you mean 'this instant'. Am I correct?" He tapped his fingers together thoughtfully, smelling a trap. Without waiting for the medic to respond, Lydecker removed his glasses, stood abruptly and exited the office, heading in the direction of the Psychology Unit.

***

In her new quarters, X5-210 straightened her vest and tightened her bootlaces. Granted, she was a very slight girl at best, but just like all of the X5 series she created an imposing figure with her hair severely pulled back from her blank face, sinuous movement and proper military attire.

And just like all X5s, she was being monitored every second of the day. Just like all X5s, she was acutely aware of it. But that didn't matter now – constant surveillance had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember, and all that _did _matter was duty, mission and discipline.

A knock on her door. Hesitant, she noted, even though her visitor was trying to appear composed. With catlike grace, she yanked the door open sharply, absorbing the presence of the usual two armed guards without even thinking about it. Fleetingly she wondered why she was always escorted by them. They didn't follow X5-734 around…but the moment passed and she shrugged it off as another part of life.

"X5-210. You are to meet with Colonel Lydecker in Briefing Room Four immediately," one of the guards barked.

A curt nod. She was above him, and they both knew it. _Ah, the Colonel. He's been away for quite some time. I hope he has a mission for me…for some reason Manticore feels odd, strained even. Like it's waiting for something. _A little voice in her head snapped, _that's not for you to decide, soldier. Now shut up and don't keep the Colonel waiting any longer than you already have._

Obeying the little voice, she picked up her pace and her ever-present escort was forced to jog to keep up.

***

Lydecker's head snapped up when Jondy marched into the room, snapped her heels together and stood at attention, flashed a crisp salute, and patiently awaited acknowledgment from him. _Perfect, just as they all are. _

"At ease, X5-210. Or would you prefer Jondy?"

The eyes, like chips of glacial ice and just as cold, almost glared at him. "That is for you to decide, sir. I was under the impression that all of the X-series are referred to by their barcode designations. Permission to speak, sir."

__

What the hell did you do to her, you bitch? "Granted."

She looked clean over his shoulder, never meeting his eyes, just as she had been taught. "Sir, I simply wondered why you would want to call me 'Jondy,' wondered as to the significance of it, sir."

Lydecker's brow creased into a familiar pattern of worry and stress. "You…don't remember being called that?"

The reply was instantaneous, although for a split second he could have sworn she was giving him a look that said 'what sort of moron are you anyway?' "Sir, no sir."

__

[A classroom. Thirty or so children with shaved heads sit facing the front at perfect attention. Their fists are balled in front of them on their desks to enhance their concentration. A man in a black leather jacket is pacing while he speaks of survival situations and watches them absorb his every word. He goes on. "Nobody can resist torture indefinitely, not even you. You must learn to –"] 

Oh Jesus. She's forgotten everything. She's completely useless. I have to do something, and fast.


End file.
